


Give Me a Show/Book with a Prompt!

by omens_of_221B



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lucifer (TV), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omens_of_221B/pseuds/omens_of_221B
Summary: I've been bored, so if you give me a prompt/ship for drabbles/one shots, I'll do them! Take the ones from the tags bc I knew them best, and if you have any ideas ask!I won't do pedophilia or incest but other than that idrc





	1. Rendezvous at a Crime Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angel and a demon go to Los Angeles to perform temptations and miracles. Crowley will be caught at the wrong place at the wrong time and meet a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First prompt: Crowley meeting Lucifer at a crime scene!  
Thank you to Insomni for the prompt!

PROLOGUE

Ever since the beginning of time, since Eden, an angel and a demon have been acquainted. Crowley, previously Crawly, had taken a liking to the Angel of the Eastern Gate and after a few centuries, suggested an agreement.

Of course, Aziraphale was appalled at first, feeling that it was absurd to think that an angel and a demon could work together on opposing sides! There's no way he could lie to Heaven like that, what if Gabriel got wind of this?

However, over the years, Aziraphale had finally agreed, much to Crowley's delight. It would make their assignments far easier, and surely it wouldn't be lying to Heaven... merely not telling the whole story is all. A miracle here, a temptation there, it was all really simple.

The ethereal beings were in London, in Aziraphale's bookshop with no particular goal for the day, until an envelope landed with a thud on Aziraphale's desk. Crowley was the first to notice.

'Uh, angel, there's a message here,' Crowley started. This certainly peaked his curiosity.

'So you have an assignment?' Aziraphale asked. Crowley shook his head.

'No, no, this is from your lot, I think,' Crowley guessed. Aziraphale took the letter into his hands and glanced over the stamp. It was definitely his lot. He opened the letter and read it to Crowley.

' "Dear Aziraphale: 

As of now, your assistance in required in Los Angeles, United States of America. There are several murders committed there, hence the chaos that has been ensured over the city. You will travel to perform minor miracles to assure the citizens that they are protected. Try to avoid the LAPD at all costs. Don't mess it up, Sandalphon" '

Aziraphale looked at Crowley and they both raised an eyebrow.

'Well, I suppose that means I'll be off then,' Aziraphale started, only to have Crowley pipe in.

'I'll go too. Chaos there that I don't need to cause? Perfect, it pleases the Dark Council and I don't need to do shit,' he began.

'Language!' Aziraphale scolded as Crowley chuckled.

'Fine, angel, let's just go. 'M sure there's a good restaurant there you'd wanna try.'

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

'Ah! Detective, there you are!' Lucifer exclaimed. Chloe Decker rolled her eyes.

'Hi, Lucifer. What do you want?' the detective inquired. Lucifer only gave a charming grin.

'Nothing at all, Detective, just to say hello,' he assured, but Chloe wasn't convinced.

'There's not a lot to talk about in the precinct, and we don't have any homicide cases yet, so I'm filling out paperwork. What mischief have you caused lately?' the detective asked, bringing her eyes back down to her paperwork. Lucifer let out a dramatic gasp.

'Why, Detective, you wound me! I haven't caused mischief in weeks!' he exclaimed with a smile. Chloe laughed.

'More like a few days, Lucifer. When do you-' the detective was interrupted by Ella, from forensics, rushing to her desk.

'Guys! Murder on 4th Ave, come on!' Ella hurried. Chloe was quick on her feet, Lucifer at her heels, making their way to the cruisers.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

When Aziraphale and Crowley had arrived in Los Angeles for the first time, their fantasy quickly evaporated into the reality of what the city would be. It was rather different than the cloudy London they had become accustomed to. They were quick to ensure their stay at a hotel and got a weird look from the lady in the lobby when they asked for a single room.

'Right, angel, I reckon we should go into town now,' Crowley suggested. Aziraphale shrugged.

'I think I'll stay here for a bit, I'm going to try and figure out what to do,' Aziraphale said. Crowley shrugged.

'Alright, I'm going to go on, then. See if I can do any minor temptations, it's been a while,' Crowley said.

'Fine, when will you be back, dear?'

'Not sure, angel. I'll call you,' Crowley said, waving his mobile in his hand. Aziraphale nodded.

'I'll see you later then, dear,' Aziraphale bid goodbye.

Crowley wandered about, looking at people and deciphering their desires, their temptations. He didn't particularly feel like doing any of that, but he was a demon with a job to do.

He found a sushi shop and thought of stopping by to get something for his angel. It seemed like a nice idea at the time, and he had nothing else to do specifically, really. So, he entered with the chime of a bell above the door, and observed. there was nobody present, not even behind the counters. he thought it was odd; if they were closed, wouldn't the door be locked?

He chimed the ringer on the counter and waited, but Crowley was never one with an infinite amount of patience. He groaned and turned to leave, but he was only a few steps out the door when sirens blared through the open air and they looked around furiously, looking for the source of the sound. He didn't look very far, though, and the cruisers of the LAPD came near the building, startling him and the passerby.

A detective got out of her vehicle along with a tall, posh man and pointed strutted towards the demon.

'You are coming with me, now,' she ordered. Crowley cursed: One job, he had one job.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

While the few other officers rounded up passerby to give a statement, Detective Decker and Lucifer approached the man that were closest to the restaurant. He looked peculiar; tall, slim and clad in fit black clothing. From his snake skin boots to his black shades, he sported dark shades. He looked suspicious, too, that's for sure.

'You're coming with me, now,' the detective ordered with a flat tone, Lucifer lurking over her shoulder. The man pursed his lips, agitated.

'I'm sorry, but why exactly are am I following you?' the man inquired confused. Lucifer responded before she could, though.

'Well there's been a murder, of course! Suppose you were either the killer or in the wrong place at the wrong time,' he stated, far too enthusiastic. The tall man huffed.

'I can assure you that I'm not the bloody killer,' the man claimed, irritable. The detective gave him a confused look.

'That doesn't matter right now. You will stay here with the other officers until we come back for your statement.' the detective said with authority.

The detective and Lucifer went back into the restaurant and followed the officers until the found Ella crouched over a mangled body.

'So what do we got, Ella?' the detective asked. Ella looked up.

'Alright so, this is David Yang, a sixty-three year old Japanese cook. From what we can tell, a type of poison made his blood clot, . He's been dead for less than twenty-one hours, but there were maggots found around. Poor guy, he just wanted to make sushi,' Ella stated empathetically. Chloe hummed in thought.

'No murder weapon at all?' she questioned. Ella shook her head.

'Nope, this guy wasn't killed with a weapon,' she assured.

'Alright, we're gonna go get the statements and interview the witnesses, then,' the detective said. Lucifer followed her as she left the restaurant.

'That guy we found looked off in a setting like this. I'll get the other officers to interview the other witnesses, and we'll go ask him.' Chloe said skeptically. Lucifer nodded once and grinned.

As the two approached the man, they noticed that he was slouched on an old tree, nonchalant. He looked, well, bored.

'Alright, name?' the detected asked.

'Anthony Crowley,'

Lucifer lost his grin and stared at the man. He couldn't see his eyes, but he recognized the name... He was sure of it.

'Well, what is it, Anthony,' Lucifer started, 'That you most desire?' Lucifer asked with a stare. The man stared at him and sneered.

'Uh, sorry, what does this have to do with anything?' he asked, confused. Lucifer glanced at the detective who stared at the man in surprise.

'Detective, I think I'm going to take him out of your hair for a moment to ask... some questions,' Lucifer started and Chloe glared.

'Don't try anything, Lucifer,' she warned. The moment she said that, the man named Anthony sputtered, but didn't say anything. Chloe walked away skeptically, and Lucifer turned to him.

'Right, do I know you, Anthony?' Lucifer asked with narrowed eyes. He spat his name with venom. Anthony cleared his throat.

'Ah, well... Maybe...' he said uneasily.

'Elaborate.' Lucifer ordered coldly.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

Crowley, for lack of better words, was freaking the fuck out.

He had known Lucifer when he worked in Heaven as Raphael. Lucifer had led the angels to war the the Almighty Herself. He was the bug that planted questions in his mind, which led to his downfall. Literally.

He was also the Prince of Hell, and he hadn't seen Lucifer since he had gone by "Crawly". He should have known it was Lucifer, what with his desire questions. He should have expected it. He, however, did not expect the King of Hell to be working with a detective, nonetheless in love with a detective.

Just like Lucifer could not determine Crowley's thoughts or manipulate him, Crowley could do neither to Lucifer. He, however, could sense tension; he could sense love like Aziraphale, but he could sense human emotions, and the detective had several. He doubted it would be unreciprocated.

'Elaborate.' Lucifer had said it so coolly, it sent a shiver down Crowley's spine.

'Well, I gotta say, it's been a while, Lucifer. Although, you wound me. You don't remember?' Crowley teased. He was definitely on thin ice, and this was definitely a terrible idea, but what did you expect? It's Crowley, for somebody's sake.

Lucifer, however, was not amused. In the slightest. He glared with a thin lip grin, and his irises split in two to reveal bright red eyes.

'I might need a reminder,' he said with what anyone else would think was a manic voice. Crowley just stared with narrow eyes, saying nothing.

Crowley took of his shades, and with his serpentine eyes, stared at Lucifer. As quickly as it came, Lucifer blinked away his fiery eyes.

'Oh, you do know me, the real me too,' he started. 'You're a demon.' Crowley nodded in confirmation.

'Don't you remember the rebellion? The fall?' he asked. Lucifer's eyes widened even more, and then he sighed in realization.

'Crawly, it's been a while,' Lucifer stated, still surprised. Crowley clicked his tongue.

''It's Crowley, and it has,' he began, 'You took a break.'

Lucifer nodded once. 'After what Satan did during the Armageddon that didn't happen, I left. I didn't really feel up to dealing with that,' he informed. Crowley understood; neither did he.

Crowley decided to be cocky, which was a very good idea when it came to his superior.

'I didn't ever think you would fall for a human,' Crowley observed. Lucifer sneered, and while Crowley thought he had gotten away with that remark scot-free, he was sorely mistaken.

Lucifer had punched him square it the face and he growled in pain.

'What in Satan's name was that for?!' Crowley exclaimed angrily. Lucifer inhaled slowly and raised his eyes with judgement.

'I can smell an angel on you, Crowley,' he snarled. 'Why exactly are you fraternising with an angel?'

'I-- we don't belong on either side. I'd been close to exile; they don't pay too much attention if I'm doing jobs every now and then,' he tried to dodge the question. Lucifer exhaled a sigh.

'I suppose we're in a similar situation,' he assumed. 'Which angel?' Lucifer asked curiously.

That's where it would get awkward, but the question was bound to be asked. Crowley didn't know how to respond, though; how would Lucifer react, knowing that one of his demons was consorting with his brother?

'That's, you see that's kind of a funny story,' he gulped. Lucifer looked at him, eager.

'It's, uh, it's Aziraphale...'

'Oh.'

Lucifer certainly looked surprised, but he didn't seem angry, which was a relief. Both their looks of discomfort seemed to put an end to the conversation as quickly as it had started.

Crowley put on his shades, hoping to hide his throbbing eye as he heard footsteps behind him. The detective turned around to look at him, and the to Lucifer.

'Anything odd?' she asked with an even tone. Lucifer chuckled.

'Sure, but nothing important...' he said. Chloe gave him a weird face.

'Can I go see my angel now? I promised him I'd be back soon,' Crowley asked. Lucifer nodded while Chloe stuttered. Crowley lowered his shades so that the detective got a peak of his yellow eyes and winked, smiling when she gasped. He turned quickly and sauntered away, returning to his angel. He chuckled when he heard the detective exclaim. 

'Lucifer, another one?!'

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

'Angel, I'm back!'

In their hotel room, Aziraphale was laying on the left bed, propped up on the headboard, reading some sort of statistics book. He looked delighted when Crowley came in.

'Crowley! How was your afternoon?' Aziraphale asked, closing his book and marking his page with his finger.

'Angel, you won't believe who I saw today,' Crowley offered dramatically. Aziraphale smirked.

'Really now?' he questioned. Crowley nodded.

'I saw Lucifer,' he started, and Aziraphale gasped.

'Oh Crowley!' Aziraphale sat up, making his way to him. 'How did he react?'

'Surprisingly well, actually. Although,' Crowley started and removed his glasses. Aziraphale made a silent "oh" and put a hand on his cheek.

'Are you alright, dear?' concern was laced in his voice. Crowley nodded.

'Of course. It was probably something I said,' he laughed, as did Aziraphale. 'He also tried asking for my deepest desire,' Aziraphale sniggered.

'Well, did he get it out of you?' Aziraphale questioned with a grin. Crowley shook his head with a laugh.

'No, of course not,' Crowley assured. Aziraphale bright his head closer.

'Well, dear, what was it?' Aziraphale asked between a chaste kiss.

'At the time, to be right here, with my angel,'

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

'Lucifer, another one?!' the detective cried. Lucifer shook his head with a smile.

'Don't worry, detective, he's harmless. He tries to seem otherwise, but he's not like the ones we encountered,' he comforted. The detective was still wary.

'Are you sure?' she asked uneasily. Lucifer chuckled.

'I would hardly let a demon like those ones fraternise with my Aziraphale,' he responded. Chloe quirked a brow.

'Who?'

'Oh, my brother,' he reminded. 'I wouldn't let someone so evil practically court my brother.'


	2. Can You Help Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly Hooper doesn't know how to cope with what Sherlock had said to her all those weeks ago. When she realizes, though, that the one who burdened her with this predicament might be able to help her, she hopes that Sherlock can help her one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for Cliff Hanger. I really enjoyed this prompt!

'I love you.'

Molly Hooper was a hopeless romantic, maybe naive at times, but she wasn't gullible. Sherlock Holmes, the man she had adored without reciprocation, had always been smart, witty, clever. He was almost never oblivious.

Almost.

Of course, Sherlock knew Molly liked him, it was sort of obvious. However, he never realized how much emotion, how much sadness soared through her being when he rejected her. He was oblivious to how feelings worked, how they came to be; the one fault in the core of his vast intellect. While he was insatiable for knowledge, for understanding, he never quite cared or desired to understand emotions. He thought them to be a distraction, a purge, an inferiority versus his superiority complex.

So then why had he called her that day? Why had he asked that she utter those three words that she had wanted to tell him all along? Of course, she never did; she would've made a fool out of herself. But why, under those circumstances, had he seemed so desperate?

Sherlock Holmes was a funny man; he wasn't as loquacious as he was obnoxious with his smarts, but he had charm and he certainly knew how to use it. Molly knew that he sometimes used the emotions of others for a case, an experiment. Was that what it was? An experiment?

'Please, Molly, just say it. I love you.'

Molly had already dealt with the wound of unreciprocated love early on, and it had scabbed over, it had healed. Mostly, like a scar. But since then, since that phonecall with Sherlock, the wound was ripped right open again. How in the world was she supposed to get rid of that?

All these thoughts, all these questions buzzed through her mind as she drove to the morgue. She was counting on seeing Sherlock and John, the partners in crime solving, at the morgue that day. It wasn't the first time she had seen Sherlock after the phonecall, but it had been an immensely awkward meeting. They barely spoke, less than usual. John seemed wary of the tension, then; did he know? Had Sherlock told him, had they laughed at the hope in her voice? Was this all some sociopathic prank?

No, of course not. John wouldn't know if it was; he was a good man, he wouldn't let Sherlock get away with hurting someone's feelings so terribly. Would he?

Later that day, Molly had learned that Sherlock would occupy the laboratory instead of the morgue. He walked in long, concentrated strides with John right at his heels. He made no visible sign that he had noticed Molly and went straight to the microscope aith a vile.

John looked at her and nodded, acknowledging her presence.

'He seems more quiet than usual, even with you, John,' Molly pointed out. John shrugged with a neutral expression.

'He doesn't talk much after deleting a memory,' John informed. A lightbulb went off in Molly's head, too inticing to bother asking what memory Sherlock had gotten rid of.

John gave her an odd look as she grinned and she made it a point to excuse herself quickly. She would leave the laboratory and come to talk to Sherlock after he would finish his observation. And wait she did.

She came to check up on the two after a while, bringing Sherlock and John coffee, as per usual. John thanked her and Sherlock, well, didn't really say anything. He gave a grunt in thanks and Molly resisted the urge to sigh. While John spoke none to Sherlock, he and Molly conversed lightly for about a half of an hour before Sherlock was pushing out of his seat. Molly turned quickly to John.

'John, please, wait outside. I just need a few minutes,' Molly started. John looked tense, reluctant. Molly finally sighed.

'Please John, I just need help,' Molly begged. John softened and nodded once.

'Alright,' he agreed with a straight mouth. Molly smiled.

'Thank you.'

John went to the exit and Sherlock was putting on his coat as he went to leave. Molly was getting nervous.

'Sherlock, wait!'

Sherlock didn't stop walking, making a beeline to the door, but Molly was too quick. She stopped in front of the door with a glare, and Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, no emotion on his stone could face.

'Molly, listen, I really am rather busy-' he started, but it was a lost cause. Molly interrupted him desperately.

'Please, Sherlock, I need your help,' Molly said bashfully. Sherlock blinked and went to say something, but shut his mouth quickly.

'Trying again, he asked, 'And how, exactly, would you like me to help?' His face was still solid, no visible emotion in sight. Molly gulped, casting her gaze downwards and looking up again, slowly.

'I need, I need to, well, you know how you can delete your, erm,more unpleasant memories?' she choked out the question with unexpected difficulty. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and his face softened briefly before returning to it's unreadable mask.

'Yes, I am aware that I can accomplish that,' he said coolly. Molly nodded.

'Right, well, I need you to teach me... How to do that,' Molly was starting to regret her decision when Sherlock closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He opened his eyes with a jolt.

'Which memory are you trying to delete?' he startled Molly with that question; she certainly wasn't expecting it.

I'd rather not say,' she answered, looking pointedly at her shoes. Sherlock swallowed down a groan.

'If you would like my help,' he started coldly, 'I need to know what memory you would like to delete.'

Molly stared at him with pleading eyes, and quickly looked down.

'The phone call,' she murmured only slightly above a whisper. Sherlock huffed.

'What phonecall?-' Sherlock stopped abruptly and stared. His face softened and he let out a little 'oh'. Molly looked at him bashfully.

'If you could please-' Molly tried to ask, but Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows. 'No.'

Molly gaped and squirmed under his gaze. 'Please, Sherlock,' she tried to reason with him, but he kept trying to exit the laboratory with a nervous look in his eyes.

'Sherlock, I- please, I don't want to-' Molly sputtered, and Sherlock glared sadly. 'No!'

Molly looked at him surprised. He may have been rude and obnoxious, but he didn't usually raise his voice with Molly. A look of reluctant remorse adorned his face.

'I don't want you to forget.'

Molly glared at him, angry. Why wouldn't he- why did he care?! Why did he want to burden Molly like this? Was he truly that selfish?

'Why?!' she yelled on the brink of tears. 'Why do you want me to remember? To humiliate me, to keep me in pain for some sick joke?! Is this that funny for someone of the li-' Molly couldn't continue her sentence. Her mouth was now occupied by a pair of soft, chapped lips that crashed into hers. Her tears trickled down her cheek as she stared wide eyed, frozen, as Sherlock kissed her.

He backed away and looked down at her softly with a tight lipped smile, barely there. Her eyes wide as saucers, she stared at him in awe.

'I...' he started. 'I meant what I said, in that phonecall. I meant it,' he assured. Molly choked on a sob.

'I... What?!' she squeaked. 'Why didn't you tell me when you knew this whole time that I was smitten? Why did you lead me to believe that you were lying?!' Molly's face contorted into different emotions simultaneously. Frustration, confusion, joy and sadness. She wasn't sure what was going on in her mind, but her heart thumped with anticipation and confusion.

Sherlock sighed. He never sighed, not unless it was condescending. But this time it wasn't; it was disappointment.

'I'm not used to this, I don't understand it. Not at all,' he confessed. He confessed his lack of knowledge, another first. Molly looked at him, stunned, while the words were so expected.

'So, so you meant it? You,' Molly started, hearing nothing but her own rugged breathing. 'You love me?'

Molly had expected Sherlock to flinch, to look away, to say something snappy and clever as he always did. But he didn't. Instead, he looked at her with a happy and rather relieved expression on his face.

'Molly Hooper, of course I love you.'

Now it was Molly who kissed Sherlock; not harsh, not desperate, but chaste and overjoyed. Sherlock kissed back softly and they parted. Molly was beaming a bright smile while Sherlock sported a shy grin.

Molly hugged Sherlock and he wrapped her arms around her. She breathed in his clean scent, smiling, staining his coat with a track of tears. She was startled, though, when she heard three loud knocks on the door.

'Right, Sherlock, I think we ought to take our leave now,' John suggested. Molly's heart had been overwhelmed with the scare. She giggled, and Sherlock smiled at her warmly. A kiss on the cheek and a hand on her forearm, Molly moved for the door so that he could take his leave. His hand set on the doorknob, he looked at her and gave a rare smile.

'Until next time, Molly.'


End file.
